


In a Name

by hatebeat



Category: K (Anime)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 12:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatebeat/pseuds/hatebeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yata hates being called by his name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Name

Misaki was the name his parents called him. 

As a kid, Yata laid in bed staring at the ceiling. He was supposed to be sleeping. He had school in the morning, after all. His dumbass parents said that, so they should know that, too, right? But they were the reason he couldn't sleep. Always bitching, bitching, _bitching_. Sure, they bitched about everything under the sun, so maybe it wasn't a big deal, but they bitched about _him_ , too.

It was all pretty typical. Dad would get drunk, and he would start shit. Mom wasn't a pushover, though. She would yell back. Yata hated it. They would yell and yell and yell. And then mom would say something like, "Shut up, you're going to wake up Misaki!", but it wasn't like dad would ever care. "Misaki? That brat needs hardening up, anyway. Someone has to teach him to be a man."

It wasn't even about him, the fighting. It never was. But every time they said his name, he flinched. He hated hearing them say it while they were screaming at each other, like it was his fault or something.

He hated hearing the name 'Misaki'. Misaki was the name his parents call him, and they hardly ever sounded nice saying it.

 

By middle school, it wasn't an issue. He didn't have any friends, anyway, and he didn't want any. Nobody tried to call him 'Misaki' anymore. He was just 'Yata', to everyone, and that was the way he fuckin' liked it. 

And he stayed away from home as much as possible, too. His jerkoff parents didn't give a shit whether they saw him or not, so he'd hang out in arcades and shit, and slept wherever the hell he wanted. He didn't give a fuck if he got in trouble at school for his school uniform being dirty or something stupid like that. His parents didn't give a shit about _him_ , so it wasn't like they were going to answer any calls from the school.

Avoiding home made it easy to never have to hear anyone saying _'Misaki_ ' in that tone of voice again.

 

The first time Fushimi called him by his name, Yata kicked his ass.

It seemed that Yata had made a friend. He wasn't particularly looking for one, but this guy wasn't like everyone else, and Yata was fine with that. Fushimi didn't want a friend, either. Maybe that was why they worked.

It turned out, though, that it Yata was fiercely protective of people he cared about. Even Yata hadn't realised it until that time.

They were in the cafeteria getting lunch. Waiting in line made him impatient enough as it was, but then this kid from their class started badmouthing Fushimi, saying shit like he was a suck up because he always knew the answers to shit. Yata felt his face get hot, and his fists clench up. He didn't get it at first, but he just about blew his top. The kid was several inches taller than him, but Yata grabbed him by the shoulder to turn him around, then slammed his fist straight into his gut.

"Hey! You wanna take this outside, asshole?" the kid challenged him.

"Hell yeah I do, you fuckin' bastard! Let's go!" Yata screamed, and practically dragged the kid with him out the nearest set of doors.

A lot of students followed, but Yata didn't give a shit. The only thing he cared about was beating this guy's face into the cement. 

It was only a few minutes before a teacher came to separate them, and when it was all over, he realised Fushimi was right by his side.

"You're bleeding. Are you alright, Misaki?"

"The fuck? Don't call me that, you bastard!" Yata retorted without a thought, still all riled up from the fight, and he punched Fushimi, too.

He didn't punch him as hard as he punched that other guy, though. And after that, Fushimi never called him 'Yata' again.

 

It wasn't until halfway through their first year of high school that Fushimi found out why he hated being called 'Misaki'.

Some shit had happened. Yata didn't want to think too hard about it, but his dad was involved, and Yata was way worse for wear afterward. He couldn't move his hand, and maybe he should go to the hospital or something, but he just felt kind of dead. He went to Fushimi's place.

Going to where Fushimi lived could be kind of... sketchy. But it was kind of late. Maybe it would be fine. 

He put his hand on the door, but without knocking he just kind of stared at it. It hurt so fuckin' bad but he couldn't even feel the door. He couldn't move his fingers. Sighing, he just kind of kicked at the door sullenly, and with his working hand, he pulled out his phone.

Fushimi picked up after one ring.

"Hey. Come open your door," Yata told him right away.

There was silence for a moment. Yata was about to hang up, since Fushimi heard the fuckin' message, but then...

"Misaki, are you crying?"

"Huh?" Yata asked, startled. "Just open your fuckin' door."

He ended the call, then, and dropped his phone back into his pocket. The door opened a minute later, and he stepped inside without waiting to get invited. Hopefully that lady Fushimi was living with was... out.

Yata dropped his skateboard against the wall just inside the door and just kind of looked around helplessly.

"Misaki."

"Don't fuckin' call me that, I keep telling you," Yata sighed, but he couldn't even get worked up right now. He just... he _hurt_ , and...

Fushimi reached out and touched his face, like wiping his cheeks or some shit. Yata looked at him, confused, and he realised Fushimi's fingers were wet when he pulled them back a bit.

The fuck? 

"Musta been raining or some shit," Yata muttered. Like he'd know. He barely remembered the ride over here.

"Misaki," Fushimi said again, quietly, but that was it. Yata started to get a little bit mad.

"Enough with that shit, I said."

It wasn't that long after that Yata was taking up one side of Fushimi's mattress, dressed in a pair of borrowed shorts, and his hand in a makeshift splint. Fushimi shut off the lights and got in next to him. Yeah, 'cause Yata sure couldn't sleep at home tonight... Right.

It was quiet for a bit, but it wasn't awkward. Sometimes they didn't say shit to each other for a while. They both had... people issues, or something.

But just before Yata started to feel like he might be able to fall asleep and stop _thinking_ so god damn much, Fushimi finally spoke.

"Why do you hate being called by your name?"

"I just fucking do," Yata retorted right away, turning over to face away from Fushimi.

Fushimi didn't say anything immediately, giving him a chance to calm down, but when Yata's heartbeat returned to normal, Fushimi scooted closer to him.

"Why? Mi-sa-ki?"

"'Cause that's what my fuckin' parents call me, you asshole! Now fuck off."

He didn't expect Fushimi to say anything else to that. Fushimi kind of knew, at least, the situation with his family. Just like Yata kind of knew Fushimi's situation. They didn't pester each other about it. They were men! They didn't need to talk about that kind of shit!

"Misaki."

"Bastard," Yata sighed, shutting his eyes.

Fushimi rolled over so that their backs were facing one another, but they were nearly touching. They were close enough to feel one another's heat.

"You just need to hear it used with a different connotation, Misaki."


End file.
